Purge
by Magician Irono
Summary: He can't force such disgusting actions out of his past. So he beats his chest and hopes for another chance.
Well, I started this a while ago. Glad I got it done finally.

The impression I get is that Eren goes a little crazy sometimes with his thirst for revenge and doesn't appreciate Mikasa looking out for him enough. I also heard that of the two characters in Attack on Titan that actually change, Eren is sadly not one of them. I don't think Mikasa is either, so hopefully this is a little cathartic in a way.

Also, I feel like if Eren would ever get sick, he'd get straight up tumors and the like. This is in no way meant to make light of those suffering from cancer of those who have lost the fight. I wish those battling the best of luck and speedy recoveries.

This is intended to be a familial fic, but maybe you can view it as romantic in a twisted sort of way. Please enjoy anyways. :)

Purge

Dark. Or bright. Clammy. Or too dry. Cold. Or hot. There were far too many ups and downs in this predicament to judge just how bad it all was. The handful of certain constants weren't pleasant: The steady pounding in the back of his head; The inescapable restlessness; The deep throbbing in his bones; The bog of foggy memories from the rest of the day. That was all Eren Jaeger knew for the moment- if only he could go back to the senseless oblivion he had been so rudely pulled out of. But by what, exactly? These pieces of the same curse worked their way in with no sense of time or mediation. There was no sound, no visitors, and in the usual cellar there would be no light. So. . . why?

The first sign had to have come this morning (or rather, the most recent morning he remembered). Sure, he was always toasty after returning from monster to human- it was just an effect of the high temperatures and titan flesh that encased him in such times. But it shouldn't have persisted into the following day. The cause could have been from an infected wound earlier, from before he turned. If it was just that, there was nothing to worry about- just wait for the fever to do it's job and keep going through the day. Since the activation of his abilities, his average body temperature had risen anyways. There was nothing to fret over. Obviously, that wasn't the case.

Jeager's eyes fluttered open and that was the point of no return. Needles of moonlight pierced through the window and straight into his face. He whimpered and rolled from his back to the left side, only to curl up with his arms around a throbbing stomach. Another pitiful sound. The headache doubled in potency. His joints screamed. Even breathing was shaky and difficult business. A slimy mass dropped from his forehead onto the mattress. It was only at this point that he realised that he was even laying down. And how bright it was for just being the cellar. There was no way of returning to sleep, now. He looked around through squinting eyes.

 _Wait, this is the infirmary._

And it was. Between the dimly visible cabinets in the far corner of the room, the lines of cots and the faint, fermented smells of alcohol (whiskey for surgery and amputation, white wine for disinfecting wounds), there was no doubt. This was in no way the usual place he resided in. His eyes immediately went to his wrists and he took back the cool compress. No cold iron. No torch light. No clinking of chain links. No nervous or watchful eyes. But even in this place, Eren knew better than to think he was "free" in any way. _Of course I still have "chains" on- They'd be mad if they didn't put me under a quarantine._ He sucked in a deep breath and rolled on his back again. A choked sob slipped out. _Somehow, I think I've gotten worse than before. . ._

The day- from sunrise to the blackout- was far too muddled by pain and heat to remember properly. Strange, considering that he had become quite the morning person after Trost (Hange mentioned that the titans behaved somewhat similarly). And what he did remember, didn't exactly add up. A dirty scarf, shouting, and steam was all he could pull up. He curled up tighter and felt a bump on his leg. It throbbed in protest. Maybe he fell and hurt himself. Yes, that must be it- Eren collapsed ill, hit his shin, and his friends must have freaked out trying to help. But that couldn't have been the whole story. _I'll have to ask Armin or Mikasa what-_

Every instinct locked up and stood at alert. Eren was automatically and undoubtedly afraid. _No! Stay away from Mikasa_! That was what he was wordlessly told. _Something went wrong with her._ But why? _Why?_ He pursued further. More fog. More ache. No answers.

Actually, something did come up, without warning or stopping. And it certainly wasn't a memory.

The clock ticked. Seconds dilated. Eren's mind sped in the sluggish heat. He had about five seconds to find relief. The latrines were a separate building entirely, so that was out of the question. Was there a sink in this place? Yes, but only one across the room. Eren was running out of time and he didn't trust himself to walk on his own. The window? The boy considered it before he spotted a courteously placed bucket next to his bed. He suspected for a moment Christa had a hand in this, the thoughtful goddess she was. And he had just barely made it, leaning over and ungracefully vomiting over the edge. His esophagus burned. His lungs begged for air. _What the hell did I even eat for this?_

The retching stopped momentarily. Eren looked down and gasped.

Blood: Bright, harsh red, and a lot of it, but not a drop of bile like there should have been. The contents of the bucket, near a quarter full, began to evaporate just as he had thrown it up. Eren didn't even have time to think about it before his organs contracted again and forced more out. The stench of rain mingled with rotting and burning flesh didn't help much either.

 _This is familiar._ And the past surged forward.

 _"Oh my God, Eren-"_

 _"That brat made this kind of mess?"_

 _"Gah!"_

 _"What are you standing there for? Help me get hi- Ow!"_

 _"I know! He's too hot to pick up."_

 _"I-. . . Is that_ all _blood?"_

 _"With a temperature like that, he should be dead."_

 _"Then help me out before that happens, Arlert!"_

 _"Ah, yessir!"_

If the shame didn't hit him then, it certainly did now. _Of course it would be in front of everyone._ The voices- Armin, for one. Captain Levi for another. The third one had to be that horseface. Or Reiner (he couldn't remember). Yes, plenty of faces were there. Eren finally caught his breath as he counted them. Armin. Levi. Reiner. Jean. Bertholdt. Connie. Sasha. Christa. Ymir. Ok, maybe not all of them, but a pretty good sampling saw him puke his guts out in the stables. The attendance was definitely more saturated with familiar faces than he would have preferred.

Except for the fact that Mikasa wasn't there. In spite of his exhaustion, Eren managed to sit up on his own when he finally finished his involuntary purge. Acid bit at his tonsils and throat. The pain elsewhere drummed on, but not in his stomach thankfully. He lifted a hand to massage his temple, then the back of his neck. A deep breath was sucked in. Somehow the moonlight from outside wasn't so intense and graced the room with an alluring pallor.

 _Shrk. . . Shrk. . ._

It was only a tree branch- it scraped the window's glass without urgency or intent. Another deep breath. It seemed to echo against the walls and cold beds. Eren took up the rag that had fallen earlier and smoothed it over his nape. Cool relief pooled there and seemed to quell the throbbing higher up. He let the last bit of soldierly posture he had melt away and slouched forward. Moments like these didn't come by so easy. Not time to cry or break down- just to rest and stop thinking, stop fighting. A moment to be still. When there are no titans or traitors or trials to concern oneself with. No one else around either- just Eren. He was grateful for that and all but. . .

 _Shrk._

" _I plan to follow you whether you give me permission to or not!"_

. . . It was empty. Too empty. He exhaled a melancholic sigh-

 _Tic._

Eren whipped his head towards the window and kept still. Silence.

. . .

 _Tic._

 _Tic-tic._

 _Tic._

Sure enough, someone below was throwing pebbles against the glass. But who? It probably wasn't Armin- he still didn't trust himself with sneaking around to this day. Maybe Mikasa, but a resounding "No" stopped that thought in the back of his head. Either way, this wasn't right- Jaeger was most likely under quarantine as of that afternoon, right? How did they find his room anyways? _Wait, I've been out for hours. That's more than enough time for even Connie to find my room._ Eren gingerly shifted his weight on his hands and knees, crawling towards the pane and opened the window.

A girl in a red scarf stood at the bottom with a stoic, patient demeanor. A breeze caught her black hair. Grey and teal met and lingered. Of course she was here. Eren could feel the grim worry radiating off her from however many floors he had been placed up. It was nothing new. _Nothing new. . ._

 _"I think you should go lie down."_

 _"Wha- No, I'm fine-"_

 _"I don't remember 'fine' looking like you did back as a refugee. You're burning up and- Eren,_ why _are you limping?"_

 _"Get your hands off me-"_

 _"No, you need to rest. You're sick, you're in pain, and you're not letting me help like usual. C'mon, give me your arm. I'll help you get to Hange- she'll know what to do."_

Exactly. Mikasa would spend her life worrying about him, die protecting him, maybe even turn in her own grave if he had gotten so much as a sprain. The boy offered a smile and a wave as if to say he was doing well. His sister looked away and fingered the fabric around her neck. It wasn't a cold gesture per se, but Eren had never seen his sister like this. Mikasa was withdrawn and she shrunk from where she stood. As soon as the boy forgot of his own state for that of his sibling, she straightened back up and made a back and forth motion with her right arm. In her hand rested a brown package of some sort. A long tail of rope dangled from the back and coiled on the ground. It didn't take long to get the message. Eren sat against the wall, out of sight, and threw a thumb up.

A split second later, that brown mass had gone flying through the window and smacked into the opposite wall. The rope pulled taut and dragged the item with it and into Eren's lap and waiting hands. It was a canteen, measuring about seven or eight _zoll_ in length. Warmth seeped through the leather and into his legs, then his palms and fingertips- He almost didn't notice that. The rope was undone and he tugged twice. It disappeared over the pane. With the cap removed, a homely aroma drifted up. He pressed the edge to his lips, tipped the container back, and took a small sip.

Broth. Thin, but warm and satisfying. He could taste the faint pungency of a bird, the undertone of it's bones, and the wholesome flavors of carrots, onion and garlic. Eren didn't have much of an appetite for more than half a canteen, but the first mouthful convinced him to at least try and finish. He leaned towards the direction of the window-

And found nothing. Only a pile of rope and no one to thank for the offering.

 _. . . This isn't right._ The boy sat back and nursed from the canteen some more. In a normal case, Mikasa would have fought and won a battle to accompany him while asleep. She should be here, in the room and trying to convince him to have a bit of bread. Just now she couldn't have been more eager to get away. What happened? What the hell happened? The boy filed through what he had one more time. Sluggish morning- check. Mikasa's worry- check. The blur started right there, and his moment in the stables came after that. The lethargy, ache, and heat incessantly persisted. It was like this before, wasn't it? No, he was just crabby. Well, he was crabby before, but was fed up with this stupid garble of discomfort that wouldn't shut up-

Shut up.

 _"Shut up! Just shut up already! I'm fine. I don't need you looking out for me, Mikasa- I never did!"_

Eren could have been dying. Whether by disease or by monster, this could be his last night alive. Any night or day could have since he joined the military, or since they lost everything that was safe and familiar- Shiganshina, Wall Maria and their Mother. A simple "No, thank you" would have sufficed, right? _Of all the things I could have said, why did I say that?_

The teen leaned over the edge of the bed again and regurgitated more steaming blood. Hot tears sped down. It was sickening. Disgusting, disrespectful-if he wasn't a monster before, he certainly was now. When did he learn to brush off the only family he had left? To let pride and bloodlust drive him mad and spoiled like a child? What would his Father say? His mother? If survival was to be carried out like this, then Eren wasn't much better than any other animal or abomination out there. More fragments of the blotted out timeline came forth. This time the boy couldn't suppress them even if he tried.

 _"Is he going to be ok?"_

 _"I'm not sure. I don't think I've seen a bug quite like this. The best we can to is wait it out and see if it gets better."_

 _"That's all you can do? Seriously?"_

 _"Cadet Ackerman, your brother. . . Well, there's no easy to tell you this. He has cancer, essentially. Osteosarcoma. We found a lump on his shin about the size of a rock and his knee is swollen pretty badly. The only thing I have in the way of treatment for that is to pump him full of cyanide or something. And with him puking up nothing but blood and running that high a fever, poison definitely isn't the way to go."_

 _". . . Squad Leader Zoe, you're kidding me, right? You know you can't joke about something like that."_

 _"Cadet-"_

 _"Let me see him. You're lying- let me see him!"_

 _"Look, maybe it's not that bad-"_

 _"Not that bad?!"_

 _"Yes- the lump may have changed shape, but there's no doubt that it's gotten smaller. It's sporadic, but it's something. Whatever disease he has, I think his body has it taken care of. The fever and vomiting are not symptoms of bone cancer, but they kill or flush out disease with normal human illness. His body is probably fighting it off like you or I would with the common cold."_

That was a scary diagnosis. Eren fingered his shin again. The growth couldn't have been bigger than a _pfennig_ eagle coin. But after all that, she still came back to see how he was doing? She had to be sick of the abuse by now. How didn't she break?

But another glimpse came up. Maybe she did after all.

 _"Mikasa, I found this in the trash."_

 _". . ."_

 _"Why did you throw it out?"_

 _". . . No good reason. Thanks for bringing my scarf back, Armin. I appreciate it."_

 _"Have you been crying?"_

 _". . . "_

 _"Hey, don't worry. Eren's going to pull through this time. He'll be just-"_

 _"Even if he's dead, it's fine. You don't have to worry about the well-being of a corpse, anyways."_

 _"What the- Mikasa! Why would you say something like that?!"_

Eren gagged again, but nothing more than a few drops came up. _Of course she would say something like that. I've been a complete ass._ He'd have to thank Armin for taking care of her. More importantly, he owed his sister an apology. But that doesn't cut it. Saying "Sorry" to a broken plate doesn't fix it or reverse the drop. Saying "Sorry" to a cadaver, once family and present or not, doesn't bring them back from the dead. It was as though blood had stained his hands again. An implicit testament to his crimes, the sin that marked his very existence, punctured icy holes into his heart. Loathing was a seed that grew quick and thick. Because of him, his Mother fell first, then Thomas, Squad 34, Squad Levi, Marco, countless other comrades, and Mikasa may very well join them sooner that he'd like. He never said he loved her, how precious she was to him. His _sister_. His _family._ And when that happened, the last moment, the lastopportunity, would be-

No. He couldn't think like that. That was the type of infectious doubt that would decimate his will to live and fight. Eren shook his head and smacked his cheeks. _I'm not evil. I'm not inhumane. I can fix this._ He had to repeat it a few times to make it more believable. _As long as I live, I have a chance to make it up to her._

Stars flickered outside. The moon gave a subdued glow behind the clouds. The boy's strength had just about run out and every drop of the gift had been put to good use. Eren let the canteen rest on the bedpost and pulled the covers up. Hopefully he could keep it down. After adjusting to the ache in his bones, he repositioned the rag (still moist, cool and welcomed) and closed his eyes.

 _I'll apologize tomorrow. For sure, before I run out of time like with Mom._

He didn't drift back to sleep until a half hour later, but he drifted with the thought and resolve in mind nonetheless.

-AOT-

It started off as little more than a dull flicker, a low whistle that a normal person wouldn't notice. Candelas and decibels stacked upon one another. Eren peeked out from under the covers and cracked a w(e)ary eye. The world outside the window played it's symphonic crescendo of light, of life, of the gift of a brand new day. From a dark and cold night came a warm sun and awakening flora and fauna, legions of which brought their voice in a wordless song that brought joy to all- boy and girl, old and young-

Actually, no. Scratch that last bit. Scratch all that shit. He scowled and curled tighter than before, receding to the reservoir of darkness in the blanket. Those damn birds needed to shut the hell up and someone needed to close the goddamn window already. The one cover wasn't enough if leaves and cold were going to be blown into the damn place. What time was it even- 8? 9? The sun was up too high for it to be time for his stable duty-

No, the sun was just fine where it was. Eren was late. He slept in. Captain Levi was going to tear him a new one, then another after that regenerated.

And he never apologized to Mikasa.

"Oh, shit!" The boy kicked the covers off and scrambled around the room to find his uniform. It had to be here, it had to- and it was, folded neatly on the nightstand next to his cot. Eren ripped off the white gown over his head and dove for the garments. Shirt- on; Pants- on; Jacket-tied around his neck; Cape- held firmly between his teeth; Boots- on. "Crap, crap, crap- Fucking hell!" He swiped up the belts and bolted for the doorway, hopping and galloping accordingly depending on the buckles he had to fasten. " 'Scuse me! Pardon! Sorrysorrysorry!" Those he sped past in the halls paused to watch him run, eyes narrowed or widened in the wake of a rush of annoyance or awe. At long last every buckle and belt was in its place and the boy took to the stairs and halls and eventually outside with newfound speed-

Only to collide into another as he turned the corner. Books clattered to the ground. Papers sailed into the air and floated down. Two human forms pushed themselves up from the wreck. At seeing Eren scrambled for the papers, others passed by and let them take care of themselves. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry." The brunette had a tapped a stack of paper on the ground to even the edges before handing them to the victim of his frantic dash. "You alright?"

The other finally sat up, massaging the side of his head. "Ow. . . Eren, what the he- Eren?!"

The blonde boy looked back at Eren not in offense, but morbid amazement. Sadly, there was no time to focus on that. "Yeah, sorry Armin. I gotta go-"

"A-Are you feeling alright?" The other sat up and leaned forward. "You shouldn't push yourself."

"I'm fine. Do you know where Mikasa is?"

The blonde's hands were on the brunette's face a second later. First his forehead, then checking the whites of his eyes. "No fever, no redness- How's your leg?"

"My shin's fine. Listen, I need to find Mikasa. Where is she?"

"It's as though yesterday never-"

"Armin! Where's Mikasa?"

No response. Eren could almost see the gears grind together frantically in Armin's head. The latter looked down. His gaze darted from cobblestone to cobblestone. He sank his teeth into his lower lip and Eren had lost his patience. "I need to find her," he pressed. "I've- I've treated her horribly, I gotta apologize. _Where is she?_ "

". . . She was stuck with your stable duty for today. You might be able to catch her if you hurry."

 _Honestly? I deserve to be smitten with lightning at this point!_ "Thanks. I'll catch up with you later." With the speed that could break one's neck, he was off once again.

"I'd choose your words carefully if I were you!"

His best friend's words could have been lost on him for all he knew. The halls blurred into door frames, into the outdoors, green canopies and roof tops and a blue sky all blending like a mess of water colors. The stables. He knew how to get there, but flight and flight seared through every nerve. Why couldn't he get there faster? His foot slipped on a rock and he rolled his ankle, but caught himself with the next step and kept running. He could have his bones broken, every last one, over and over and over again, and it wouldn't hurt like this. Finally the corner of the stables came into view. Eren slid to a stop in front of the doorway. Sweat prickled along the hairline. The heart pounded loudly in his ears. Fire seared deep in his chest and his lungs worked of their own accord, sucking in and forcing out as much air as possible, no matter the pain.

Armin was right. Eren wasn't too late. Mikasa stood in the middle of the middle row, holding up a bucket to a hungry steed. Grey eyes, usually calm and unreadable, started back a bit startled. Every detail- her hair, her uniform, her puzzled expression- fall away once he sees the red scarf on her neck. It's faintly soiled, but she took it back. A sob slipped out at the sight. She was here and very much alive. It wasn't the same as what happened to his mom. _I'll make sure it's not the same as with Mom._ The girl didn't even have time to prepare herself for the boy who rushed in and threw his arms around her. He squeezed as hard as possible, clawing at the fabric on her back and shoulder and forcing tears down.

She was not gone. He was not too late.

 _"Shut up! Just shut up already! I'm fine. I don't need you looking out for me, Mikasa- I never did!"_

She needed to know that nothing could be further from the truth.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Mikasa, I'm so sorry. I never meant what I said. I've been horrible to you, as a friend and a brother. And you're the last piece of family I have!" Salty droplets finally spilled over the precipice. "L-look- I'll change. I won't be so angry anymore, ok? I'll become the brother you de- Woah, hey, he- Gah!"

When he had first begin rambling, he had been standing in the stables, offering his repentance to an injured party. When he had been cut off, some powerful force had sent him sailing through the air, through the wooden wall, tumbling across splinters of wood and grass. Skin and muscle screamed in agony. Heat seared on his back. The regeneration had already begun. Eren looked up and saw that his fall had begun to amass an audience. And one in particular stormed towards him, red scarf flapping in the wind and rage fueling a livid aura. Mikasa stooped down to Eren's position, closed a single hand around his neck, and lifted. The throat buckled under the sheer strength. The lungs seized, the heart spasmed frantically with what little it had left. Armin had caught up to them, it seemed and intervened. With her free arm, Mikasa took the white shirt collar and threw its owner to the ground. All the while, the stormy grey eyes never wavered. Her countenance gave away nothing beyond neutrality. Eren tried to protest, legs swing and feet dangling. Immediately, the girl clenched her hand tighter, knuckles white. Finally, she spoke, as even tempered and calm as always.

"You've got some nerve coming to me after all that," she said. "If you really want to apologize, come to the courtyard tonight. Meet me there. We'll talk about what happened." She threw her brother down and watched as he coughed sputtered for breath. "But don't you dare utter a single word to me for the rest of today. And I damn sure never want to hear _that_ out of your mouth ever again, you ungrateful shit."

Mikasa walked away. Armin was at Eren's side a second later, helping him sit up and giving the crowd a notice that there was no longer anything to see. The brunette recovered in under a minute. One by one, the crowd thinned and dispersed. The day carried on as it normally would have.

Eren resolved to meet Mikasa at the specified location. Armin begged for the opposite all he could, but to no avail.

-AOT-

This was it. The courtyard, the moment of truth. Eren warily scanned the cobblestone, the tuffs of grass and dry patches of dirt. She said to meet her here at night. And judging by the moon lit sky, shadowy sky and the untimed flicker of legions upon legions of stars, Mikasa should have been here. The brunette took a deep breath of crisp, nocturnal air. _I need to calm down._ Yes, she was angry, formidably so. Yes, he was a shitty brother, disgustingly so. He felt almost as sick as when he thought of what would have happened to Mikasa if those three beasts weren't put out of existence so long ago. The boy scratched his head, his chin, cracked his knuckled, popped his fingers, anything to get such crawling, nervous energy out from under his skin. He looked left. He looked right. He strained his ears to listen. Reprieve eluded him until. . .

"So you actually came."

The boy whipped around fast enough to nearly throw himself off his own footing. He released a breath he didn't know he had been holding, but a ball of panic rocked itself around his stomach once more. She had come, just like she said she would. From behind the corner of the main building, she calmly walked into view, adorned in only a grey short sleeve, dark colored pants with large pockets and a pair of leather _swiftleres_. With the given darkness and distance, Eren could still see her muscles ripple with each step. Somewhere in the back of his head, he thought that he could sharpen his ODM blades on biceps and triceps like those. But the idea was soon forgotten when green eyes fell on the red scarf, not wrapped around her neck like usual, but folded neatly in her hands. A breeze caresses her hair, like fingers through strands of silk. Eren stepped forward. "Mikasa, I-"

"Save it," she bit back. She unraveled the scarf, letting the fringed end dust the ground.

"Look." Eren took a breath. "I said some shit that was seriously uncalled for-"

"No, I'm glad you said that." Mikasa circled the boy from his position. The end of the red fabric was taken in both hands, fingered positioned in the middle. "Thank you for opening up my eyes to the truth."

 _Rrriiiiiippp!_

A screech of decimated fabric sounded in the otherwise quiet night. Eren's eyes widened at the sight, but he couldn't find it in himself to move or speak. The girl's countenance never changed. "Maybe you don't need me."

 _Rrriiiiiippp!_

"Maybe you don't need your family looking out for you."

 _Rrriiiiiippp!_

Two thin, evenly sized strips of red fabric were the result. Mikasa smoothed them out in her hands, as though she were petting an animal. "I get that," she continued. "But I need to know that you're safe. I can't get that if you're off wherever facing whatever titan or suffering in whatever deathbed." One strip was tossed over her shoulder. "So maybe I should switch up my tactic."

Eren still didn't dare to speak, but this was not out of fear. His stance had relaxed by now, and he even found the courage to get a little closer. He stood maybe half a _lachter_ away. He listened. That was what brothers were supposed to do, right? Or what he was supposed to do. The boy watched warily as the girl across from him started to wrap the first fabric strip, putting ample support around the wrist and knuckles.

She. . . was getting ready to fight?

"I'll settle with knowing that you can handle yourself." The girl took the end of the first fabric stip and tucked it in. "Instead of trying to protect you, I'll prepare you for the worst the world has to offer." Mikasa began to wrap the second strip in a similar fashion to the first. "I expect you to take every fist and kick like a man. Don't puss out. Don't run away." She walked up to Eren very close all of a sudden, a grey-eyed glare carving a memorable hole in her wrong-doer's sense of security. "And if you roll over and die, I swear to God your last words would be how you'd like me to slice you up. If you have no intention of living, I'll kill you right then and there- I'm wasting my time and energy otherwise. Are we clear?"

This was. . . different. And the boy wasn't sure what to make of it. He wasn't bright like Armin; Often times, he needed certain things spelled out for him. And now it was and he couldn't decide if it was good or bad or something worse than the wrath of a god he should have never angered. But from the sound and look of it, this girl was done with coddling him. Mikasa was finally accepting that he was not some toddler anymore, but still keeping him close like a beloved sibling.

A beloved sibling. That was what it boiled down to. Mikasa came out, talked to him, but was done with the mistreatment. For the first time ever, in _all_ the years that he had known her, Eren was Mikasa's equal- loved, believed in, held accountable for all he had done. The brunette nodded. Yes, he would agree to another chance to make things right.

"Good." His sister fisted her pockets and shoved two rolls of fabric into Eren's hands. "Put them on."

He complied. The brother put his thumbs in the loops on the ends and wrapped the wrists, then the body of his hands. Mikasa disappeared from sight. The wrap made it's way in between each finger and across the knuckles. A sound of scrapped dirt arched behind him. She was making a sparring ring- the first to knock the other out or down would get a point. It was an old practice drill, stretching back to when they sparred as trainees. Eren started to stretch his arms-

And ended up sore, lawn-chaired over himself and tasting dirt and blood. He couldn't even remember what part had been hit first- the stomach, the leg, the jaw, all of it may as well have happened at once. Above, Mikasa stood, arms folded and not a broken sweat to be found. "Get up."

Attacking before a proper start to the match? How dirty. But real life was never so kind. He stood, spat out tinted saliva, and steeled himself to fight.

Since that day, fights broke out constantly between the two, with or without spectators. At the table, in between practice- no time or space was safe. It would be quiet one moment and in the next a fist would fly or a head would be slammed into a wall or table corner. Even Armin had stopped sitting with them. No one paid much attention until Mikasa showed up one day sporting a black eye and swollen cheek. Not only that, Eren was the one offering a cool rag and apologizing for giving the blows to begin with. The gossip never ended, it seemed. If someone like that suicidal bastard could land a hit on the one who graduated at the top of the class, just who should they be afraid of? But she could have let him win one of those fight, just to make it stop. But why would she even to that? Bastards like that really would make on want to puke. . .

But there was one point that had been found and accepted by all. Since these fights broke out, they argued and quarreled less. They weren't siblings anymore but rivals, it seemed. Those two respected one another in a rather strange and twisted way. But the commentators would shake their heads and roll their eyes. Why didn't they leave each other alone? There was simply no way behavior like that was indicative of any kind of love siblings should have for each other. If they wanted to prolong it, that was their problem.

-AOT-

"Here. I figured this would help with the swelling. How are you holding up?"

"Oh, thanks. I could be better. It's still pretty tender."

"Yeah. . . I figured. Sorry."

"Don't be. It'll go away."

"I know, but. . ."

"In any case, I'm impressed. Everyone's going to have a hay-day when they see this."

". . . ?"

"You finally landed a hit on me. And if you can hit me after all this time, you can definitely hit a Titan. I'm proud of you."

". . . Proud?"

"Yeah. I actually want to see how you handle the next expedition. At the very least your Mom should be able to rest easier now- Eren?"

"I'm sorry. Just let me hold you for a sec."

". . . Alright?"

"Just. . . I still don't say it enough, but-"

"Eren, it's fine. I know."

". . . Thank you. Thank you so much. . ."

"It's ok. You're welcome. And. . . likewise."

-AOT-

And it's done! I think the end was a little rushed, but I'm happy to get this out. Leave a review and let me know what you think. Until then, I look forwards to seeing you all in the next fic! Later~


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